The killing floors
Chorus
Grab the mop and bucket.
Get down on all fours.
Scrub the bloody stains
From the killing floor;
From the killing floor.
Verse
Dark shadow is your conscience.
Draw the window blinds.
You try to not think of it.
It toys with your mind.
Vivid as the crimson blood;
Souls you stole away.
You hear their futile cries of
Every one you’ve slain.
Chorus
Grab the mop and bucket.
Get down on all fours.
Scrub the bloody stains
From the killing floor;
From the killing floor.
Bridge
You’re not a monster
Wielding a sharp sword
Just a man whose job
Is on the killing floors.
Verse
The slaughter is your paycheck;
Meals that people eat.
You try and not think of it
As you eat your meat.
A butcher is not godless.
He can feel ashamed.
He sees the fear in their eyes.
He can feel their pain.
Chorus
Grab the mop and bucket.
Get down on all fours.
Scrub the bloody stains
From the killing floor;
From the killing floor.